


burnt out from the joy ride

by Flowerparrish



Series: sweeter than heaven (hotter than hell) [3]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Careful Consent, Clint Barton POV, Deaf Clint Barton, Dom Clint Barton, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Polyamory, Prompt Fill, Safeword Use, Safewords, Soft filth, Sub Bucky Barnes, Sub Steve Rogers, Third Person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 17:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/pseuds/Flowerparrish
Summary: Fuck, Clint doesn’t think Steve is even aware enough, at this point, to realize that he’s asking for something this huge. Clint asked what Steve wanted; so, Steve told him.It’s probably something Steve has wanted to bring up but hasn’t; Clint suspects that Steve’s hesitance about asking for new things, his fear of rejection, is at play here.But like this, drifting and trusting, being told he’s good, Steve doesn’t have the same worries.It’s going to kill Clint to say what he has to say next.





	burnt out from the joy ride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hawksonfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/gifts).

> For my bro candycanedarcy; I'm proud of you for continuing to do the thing. Good job! Enjoy some soft filth full of very explicit consent as a reward. Ilu<3
> 
> Endless additional thanks to GreyishBlue for beta reading this. All remaining mistakes are on me.
> 
> Winterhawk bingo square B2: threesome

Clint pulls Steve’s head back, hand grasped tight in Steve’s hair, and Steve whines even as he pulls away from where he’s just finished swallowing around Bucky’s (impressively, still mostly-hard) cock. Bucky lets out a quiet noise as well, but he grins at Clint, sated and happy, and that’s all Clint needs.

He turns his attention back to Steve, swiping a finger across Steve’s jaw where drool and cum have dribbled out of his mouth. “You did so good, baby,” Clint tells him. He feels warm and electric when Steve smiles up at him, pupils blown, trusting and sweet.

He’s been nothing but sweet and obedient tonight, and Clint loves nothing more than rewarding good behavior. “You’ve been so good,” Clint repeats. “I think you deserve a reward. What do you think, Buck?”

Bucky hums for a moment before nodding. “Yeah,” he agrees. He sits up, leaning forward to reach out and stroke a over Steve’s back and shoulders, down his arm. Steve quivers beneath the gentle touches before melting into them, and he whimpers softly when Bucky pulls away.

“What do you want, Steve?” Clint asks, thumb still stroking across Steve’s jaw.

“Both of you in me,” Steve says without hesitation.

“You want both of us to fuck you?” Clint asks. “Who first?”

Steve gives his head a small shake, careful not to dislodge Clint’s grip on his chin. “Same time,” he says, and Clint… fuck, Clint doesn’t think Steve is even aware enough, at this point, to realize that he’s asking for something this huge. Clint asked what Steve wanted; so, Steve told him.

It’s probably something Steve has wanted to bring up but hasn’t; Clint suspects that Steve’s hesitance about asking for new things, his fear of rejection, is at play here.

But like this, drifting and trusting, being told he’s good, Steve doesn’t have the same worries.

It’s going to kill Clint to say what he has to say next. “I can’t give you that tonight, baby,” Clint tells him. He makes sure his voice is firm but soft; no room for argument, but not so hard that Steve thinks he’s in trouble. “We gotta talk before we do that. But I promise we’ll talk about it soon. Is that fair?”

Steve pouts but nods, cheek nuzzling into Clint’s hand. “Mmhmm,” he agrees.

“You still get a reward, though,” Clint tells him. “What else do you want, baby?” He very carefully doesn’t say _anything, _even though every molecule in Clint’s being aches to just give Steve whatever he wants.

“Will you fuck me?” Steve asks. “Hard.”

Clint smirks a little because Steve’s smart; he’s learned and learned well that Clint will take every opening to torment him—he just can’t help it. But this is Steve’s reward, and Clint’s going to give him exactly what he wants. “Of course,” he agrees. “Anything you want Bucky to do?”

“Hold me?”

“Hold you down or just be near you?” Clint asks to clarify.

“Both.”

Clint glances at Bucky, who nods. “Okay,” he agrees. Bucky moves again so that he’s sitting against the headboard, pillows behind him to cushion his weight, spreading his legs so there’s a space between them.

Clint guides Steve where he wants him, cradled in between Bucky’s legs, Bucky’s hands pinning his arms down on top of Bucky’s thighs. Clint props a pillow under Steve’s ass and lifts his legs, exposing his hole.

Clint’s already fingered Steve open, and then continued fingering him until he begged to come untouched. When Clint pushes two fingers in, Steve’s still loose and slick, and Clint sighs happily. “Look at you, all ready for my cock,” he says. “You take me so well.” He slides three fingers in and crooks them, making Steve cry out.

“Please, Clint,” Steve begs. “Please get in me.”

“I am in you,” Clint points out, sliding his fingers in and out, in and out, at a pace he knows will drive Steve wild with need for harder, faster, _more. _

“Think he means your dick.” Bucky sounds unaffected by the proceedings, and Clint smirks at him, because Bucky’s dick is telegraphing his interest loud and clear.

“Oh, is that what you meant, baby?”

Steve moans. “Please, Clint, I’m being _good,” _he whines.

Clint pulls his fingers out and Steve shifts a little in Bucky’s grasp, trying to get leverage to arch his hips to follow Clint’s hand.

“You are good,” Clint agrees. “But you like it when I’m mean to you.”

Steve pouts. He doesn’t try to deny it, though. Instead, he says, “I like it when you fuck me, too.”

“Oh do you?” Clint asks, an amused, rhetorical question. He doesn’t expect an answer, because as he says it, he lines his cock up with Steve’s hole, and on the last word, he begins to push slowly in.

Steve sighs and melts into the sensation. “Thank you, thank you,” he whispers, hips trying to roll down and meet Clint’s incremental thrusts. “Please, I need—”

“I know,” Clint tells him. “I’ll always give you what you need.”

He bottoms out, and Steve sighs. “So good.” He sounds blissed out, the kind of content that makes Clint ache with contentment in turn, because _he did that. _There’s no great joy than making Steve (and Bucky) feel mind-blowingly good.

Of course, Clint’s not sure he’s reached that level yet with Steve. That in mind, he rolls his hips and fucks into Steve, testing to see how he’ll react. Steve sighs again, a pleased noise, and it’s all the encouragement Clint needs.

He keeps his promise; he fucks Steve hard and fast, arms around Steve’s legs to keep him from sliding too much up the bed and into Bucky. Bucky helps by bracing Steve’s wrists and arms.

Steve squirms at first, trying to roll his hips into Clint’s thrusts, to find something to hold on to. After the first couple of minutes, though, he settles into being fucked and taking it, moaning every time Clint grazes his prostate, grunting every time Clint bottoms out.

Clint holds off on coming as long as he can, and then he asks, “Are you close, Steve?” He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Steve says no; trade places with Bucky, maybe, because _fuck, _he’s going to _explode. _

But Steve just nods, eyes squeezed shut, biting his kiss-swollen bottom lip.

“You can come whenever you want,” Clint tells him. “You’ve been so good.”

It takes less than five thrusts before Steve’s body is clenching down around Clint, trying to hold him in as Steve comes and comes and comes, streaking white fluid across his stomach and chest. Clint groans and thrusts once, twice more, and then he’s coming in Steve, arms slipping down from holding up Steve’s legs and bracing his weight against the bed instead.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “That was hot.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. He releases Steve’s arms and gently brushes the sweaty hair off of Steve’s forehead. “Was that good, Stevie?”

“Mmm,” Steve agrees, pleased and nonverbal—exactly as mind-blown and happy as Clint hoped to make him.

Clint pulls away from Steve and grimaces at the wet spots on the bed—spots, because as always, they’ve thoroughly made a mess of things—and pads into the bathroom to find a cloth.

When he gets back, Bucky has rolled Steve over onto his side and slid down to spoon around him. Clint cleans them both off before tossing the rag into the hamper and crawling into bed, wrapping himself around Steve’s front. He twines his fingers through Bucky’s where they’re splayed against Steve’s chest, and wraps his other arm around both men.

“Love you,” Clint whispers. He’d removed his hearing aids before climbing into bed, so he doesn’t hear a reply—but he knows they love him, and when he drifts off to sleep, he’s possibly the happiest he’s ever been.

**

Clint is the first one up in the morning—for once—so he slips out of bed and heads out to the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffee pot.

He’s just settled in with toast and coffee when Steve slumps into the chair next to him.

“I’m sorry,” Steve blurts out.

Clint eyes him over his mug. “Uh… okay?”

“For… last night,” Steve clarifies—and yet, doesn’t really.

“Uh… what part?” Clint takes a desperate sip of his coffee, trying in vain to be awake enough for this conversation.

“The part where I asked for… you know.” Steve is more or less mumbling by the end, there, but _oh. _Now Clint gets it.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Clint tells him firmly. “I asked you what you wanted; you answered. I’d be a pretty shitty dom if I got mad when you did what I asked.”

Steve isn’t quite meeting Clint’s eyes, but that’s okay. “Do you want to? Or was that just an in the moment thing?”

Clint sips at his coffee while he waits for Steve to steel himself to answer.

“Yeah,” Steve whispers after a moment. “I… want that.”

“Okay. We gotta run it by Bucky first, of course, but—yeah, okay,” Clint says. “Green from me.”

Steve finally glances up and meets Clint’s eyes. The blush is still staining his cheeks, but his eyes are sparkling happily again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Clint huffs, rolling his eyes. “You know you can always ask me when you want to try something new, right?”

Steve drops his eyes again. “I know,” he says. “I mean, I _know, _I just…”

Clint nods. “Feelings are weird,” he agrees. “I’m not upset. I just want you to know. If I’m not into it, I’ll tell you, but I’ll never judge.”

“Thanks,” Steve says softly.

Clint shrugs, uncomfortable with the praise for something that, in his book, is just common decency. “Want some coffee?” he asks.

The way Steve rolls his eyes, Clint knows he’s unimpressed with Clint’s very unsubtle bid to change the subject. But he nods, and they move on to other topics.

**

Bucky, unsurprisingly, is down for it—with stipulations.

“Clint has to tell me what to do,” Bucky says.

And, yeah, that makes sense. Bucky needs Clint’s instruction less and less as he grows more comfortable and confident in himself—but new things are always difficult.

And, well, it’s not as if Clint doesn’t _enjoy _ordering them both around. “Done,” he agrees. “Anything else?”

Bucky considers before shaking his head. “Stevie?”

“I’m good,” Steve says. His eyes are wide, like he still can’t believe they’ve agreed to this.

“I have one,” Clint says. They both turn to look at him attentively. “I’m gonna check in more than usual,” he tells them. “And I need to know the moment something doesn’t feel good.”

“Of course.” It surprises Clint that Steve’s the one to answer first—he’s always the one who pushes the limits on safewords, who acts like he’s using them more for Clint’s peace of mind than anything.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “What he said.”

**

They put it off for a week without meaning to. It’s more or less out of their hands—they keep getting called out on missions, sometimes full team ones, sometimes solo missions for SHIELD.

But then Steve comes back from an op with Nat and drops to his knees right after hugging them and asks, “Can we? Please?”

And, well, it’s not like they haven’t all been _thinking _about it.

Clint glances at Bucky for one last confirmation. Bucky nods, and Clint says, “Yeah, Steve. We can do it tonight.”

All of the tension drains out of Steve’s frame. “Thank you.”

He’s barely been on his knees for a minute; he’s relaxed but his posture is perfect; Clint is so turned on he could _die. _“Should we get started now?” Clint asks.

“Hm,” Bucky considers. “Steve, when did you last eat?”

“Hour ago,” Steve says.

Bucky looks at Clint and raises an eyebrow. “That’s good,” Clint tells Steve. “Did you eat so we wouldn’t have a reason to make you wait?”

“Yes,” Steve admits. “I just—want you. Both of you.”

Clint reaches out to run his fingers through Steve’s hair, heart squeezing when Steve’s eyes drift shut and he sighs softly in pleasure at the touch. “We want you too,” he promises. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Clint plays with Steve’s hair for a few more seconds, basking in the chance to touch him after days apart, before he says, “Okay, let’s take this to the bedroom.”

Steve rises easily to his feet and follows Bucky, Clint bringing up the rear of their little procession. “Permission to strip?” Bucky asks, just a little sassy about it.

“Granted,” Clint tells him.

He pulls his own shirt over his head, misses the moment when Bucky does the same. Clint kicks out of his jeans and socks, leaving the discarded clothes strewn about the hallway with Bucky’s.

In the bedroom, Steve stops and waits for instruction.

Clint doesn’t give him any, just says, “Good,” and kisses him. He keeps the kiss slow, deepening in increments until Steve is leaning against Clint like his knees are too weak to support his weight. When Clint pulls away, he glances over Steve’s shoulder and sees Bucky lounging on the bed, watching them, one hand cupped around the tent in his briefs. “See something you like?” Clint asks.

“Always,” Bucky agrees.

Clint nudges Steve back until he’s standing tall once more, and then Clint tugs off Steve’s soft t-shirt and skates his fingers down the lines of Steve’s chest. “Beautiful,” he comments absently. His fingers drift lower until his hands are at Steve’s hips, pushing down his soft pants until they drop to pool with his boxers at his feet.

“Ready?” Clint asks Steve.

“Green,” Steve replies, and Clint smiles widely at him. He kisses Steve once more, a silent thank you, before tugging him over to the bed.

“You planning on getting naked any time soon?” Clint asks Bucky. He’s still watching them, still has a hand cupped around his cloth-covered cock.

“Mm, if you make it worth my while,” he says with a grin that’s too happy to be a smirk—but it’s a close call.

Clint raises an eyebrow. “Strip,” he orders, “and then maybe I’ll make it worth your while when you’ve done as I ask.”

Bucky flushes and shoves his briefs down his hips, wiggling free of them and kicking them away. “You got it,” he breathes, and Clint’s not sure how hard he was before, but he’s definitely fully hard now.

Clint glances at Steve. “See how good Bucky was for me, baby?” he asks. Steve nods. “I’m gonna give him a reward for being good, and then if you’re good, you’ll get what you want, too.”

There’s no way in hell he’s not giving Steve what he wants—what they all want. But he thinks Steve will appreciate it more if he thinks he’s earned something in this exchange—if it’s something he asks for and is given in return.

Steve lets out a soft whine and nods with enthusiasm. “It’ll be easy, baby,” Clint promises. “I just want you to keep Bucky’s cock warm while I finger you open, okay? Don’t try to make him come, just be a nice warm hole for him while I get you ready.” Steve whines again and nods. Clint can’t resist caressing his check softly. “Good boy.”

He nudges Steve toward the bed again and Steve goes easily, crawling across the large mattress toward Bucky. Bucky’s eyes are dark as he watches Steve advance, but he does glance up at Clint for a moment. “Just lie back and watch,” Clint tells him. It’s less commanding, but a command nonetheless. Bucky, in turn, wriggles around as if to make himself more comfortable in his nest of pillows, and then he reaches out for Steve.

Steve finds his way into Bucky’s grasping hands as if they’re magnets attracted to one another—which, in a way, they totally are. Bucky’s hands skim across Steve’s shoulders, the back of his neck, down his arms, before one hand tangles in his hair as he helps guide Steve’s head to his cock.

Steve moans once around Bucky’s cock and Bucky moans in response. Clint narrows his eyes but allows them that one bit of license—Bucky’s cock _is _delicious, he can’t really blame Steve, and Steve’s mouth is _equally _divine, so it’s all understandable in the end.

Clint grabs the lube and liberally coats his fingers before climbing onto the bed and settling in behind Steve. The position Steve is in has perfectly presented his ass for Clint, and Clint strokes over it with his non-slick hand, squeezing. He hears Steve let out a sharp exhale through his nose, but otherwise he doesn’t make a sound. He doesn’t move into Clint’s hands the way he usually would, either, apparently determined to follow Clint’s orders and keep still with Bucky’s cock in his mouth.

“Good boy,” Clint praises, kissing Steve’s left butt cheek before nuzzling at it softly. “I’m going to start now,” he warns Steve, pulling his cheeks apart so he can circle Steve’s hole with his index finger. “Just relax,” he suggests, and then he’s pushing in. The ring of muscle yields easily under the pressure from Clint’s finger, seeming almost to pull him in. “That’s so good, baby, you’re doing so good,” Clint praises.

He fingers Steve carefully; he makes an effort _not _to target Steve’s prostate, knowing that he’ll be plenty worked up by the end of this without that kind of stimulation this fast. Instead, he slowly opens Steve up, going all the way to four fingers in an attempt to make this as easy as possible.

He _knows _Steve likes a little bit of pain; but there’s a line, and Clint’s never done this before, so he’s going to be as careful as possible.

Steve’s crying out on every thrust by the time Clint can easily pump four fingers in and out of his ass, even with Clint avoiding his prostate. “You’re doing so good,” Clint promises him, using his free hand to stroke Steve’s hair back away from his forehead, to skate his fingers down the lines of muscle in Steve’s back. “I think you’re ready,” he muses, not stopping the rhythm of his fingers pumping in and out. “If you want Bucky’s cock inside of you now, you can sit up and let me position you. If you want to keep doing this, I’ll keep it up as long as you want.”

Clint doesn’t normally give Steve that much leeway—but this is a special night, and he’s been exceptionally good lately. Clint _wants _to pamper Steve—and Bucky and Steve are spoiling Clint, making him all too used to getting what he wants.

Steve exhales again but doesn’t move immediately. He holds position for, to Clint’s best estimate, another few minutes, before he pulls back off of Bucky’s cock.

Clint’s fingers slide free of Steve’s ass and Steve whines. “Shh, baby, we’ll fill you up so good, don’t worry,” Clint promises. “Right Buck?”

Bucky’s biting his bottom lip, but he says, “Right,” stumbling over the word in his haste to get it out. “Clint, can he—please—I need—”

“Shhh, I’ll take care of you too,” Clint promises Bucky. “You just lie back and let me take care of things.”

Bucky seems to settle at those words; Clint hadn’t noticed how tense he was until he relaxed, like a puppet with his strings cut. He stops biting his lip and licks across it instead.

Clint nudges Steve until he’s kneeling, legs on either side of Bucky’s, knees at Bucky’s hips. Clint reaches out and takes hold of Bucky’s cock, holding it steady, ignoring the way Bucky sighs into the warmth and pressure of Clint’s grip. “C’mon, Steve,” Clint prompts, and Steve lowers himself slowly, giving Clint enough time to position Bucky at Steve’s entrance. “Good,” Clint tells him, and Steve takes that as his cue to sink down even more, enveloping Bucky’s cock.

Bucky bites his lip again, breath hitching, and Steve moans as he takes in more and more of Bucky’s length. “You’re doing so good,” Clint tells him. “So perfect, both of you, look at you both.” His eyes track over both of them, taking in how each of them flushes at the praise, and he feels warm and electric.

His hand is still on Steve’s waist, and he trains his eyes on the place where their bodies meet, watching until Bucky’s cock is fully seated. “Take your time,” Clint tells Steve, stroking his hip gently, thumb rubbing in soothing circles.

Time is moving slow and fast; Clint is hyperaware of every second that passes, to the point that they all start to blend together to the soundtrack of Bucky and Steve’s arrhythmic breathing.

But then Steve rolls his hips, and they both moan, and Steve takes Clint’s lack of response as permission to fuck himself on Bucky’s cock.

Clint leaves them to it for a few minutes, entranced just with watching the two of them together, before he says, “Okay, stop.”

Steve whines, a sound that feels close to a sob, even as he halts his movement. Bucky, whose eyes were closed, slits them open to glare at Clint in vague betrayal.

Clint is endlessly amused by the pair of them. “I know you can both come a million times,” he points out. “But I can’t. Unless you don’t want both of us after all?” he asks Steve.

“No—please,” Steve blurts out. “I want you, please.”

Clint strokes over Steve’s cheek. “Okay, baby. Color?”

“Green,” Steve promises.

Clint glances down at Bucky. “Green,” Bucky agrees, although he takes a moment longer to say it, apparently assessing himself before he commits to it. Clint snags Bucky’s hand and pulls it up to drop a kiss across his knuckles, and Bucky flushes even darker red.

Clint slicks his fingers with more lube and circles Steve’s hole. Both Steve and Bucky whimper at the feeling, and Clint grins. “Oh, you like that?”

“Mmm—fuck, yes,” Steve agrees. Bucky doesn’t say anything; at least, not verbally. The intensity of his heavy lidded gaze speaks volumes, a language Clint is fluent in by now.

“Relax,” Clint prompts again, waits until he sees the tension in Steve’s frame ease before he pushes past the ring of muscle that’s tight around Bucky’s cock.

He’s glad he went for four fingers now; Steve’s still tight, but it’s not impossible the way he feared it might be. Steve sucks in a breath, but Clint reminds him to breathe, and he relaxes once more.

It’s slow going; Clint fucks into Steve with one finger and Bucky holds absolutely still, but Steve quickly relaxes into the sensation, moaning and rolling his hips to try to get more.

“Ready for another?” Clint asks, when he thinks Steve might be.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “Please.”

Clint takes that as the _green _he wants and slips another slick finger in alongside the first, pushing them slowly in.

It’s like the same process over again; Steve tenses, for a moment, at the stretch; Clint reminds him to breathe, and he relaxes slowly, opening up for Clint’s fingers alongside Bucky’s cock.

“Three?”

“Do it,” Steve agrees. It’s close to a command—too close.

Clint circles Steve’s hole with his fingers but doesn’t press in, waiting until Steve’s a whimpering mess in front of him. “What do good boys say?”

“Please,” Steve whines, “please, Clint, I’ll be so good, I promise,” and Clint doesn’t make him beg anymore, pushes his fingers in and feels Steve’s body open to welcome them, relaxed and tight and hot—everything Clint loves about sex, in this one moment.

“You are good,” Clint promises him. “Both of you.”

Steve’s breath hitches, and Bucky’s eyes are squeezed shut but he rolls his hips on a small, involuntary motion, and Clint _loves _how undone by praise these two men are.

He waits until he can fuck into Steve, if not fast, then at least steadily, before he pulls out. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Steve vows. There’s no other word for it; he sounds fucking reverent. It _does things _to Clint.

“Color?” he prompts, because he needs to hear it anyway.

“Green.”

“Bucky?”

“Green,” Bucky agrees. “Just—Clint. Please, I can’t keep still much longer.”

“You’re doing so good,” Clint tells him, as he slicks up his cock and lines it up beside Bucky’s against Steve’s hole. “Relax,” he prompts one final time, but Steve’s already lax and waiting.

Clint pushes in; Steve’s breath hitches, and he tenses and then relaxes with each incremental push from Clint. It seems to take an eternity for Clint to bottom out, made longer by the sheer _tightness _of Steve around Clint’s cock, the firmness of Bucky’s cock nestled next to his. It’s overwhelming; he doesn’t know how he feels about it, and that makes him reach out, check in, “Color?”

“Yellow,” Steve says after a moment. “Not bad, just, a minute, can I have a minute?”

“Of course baby,” Clint promises, leaning forward—careful not to shift his hips—just enough to kiss Steve’s shoulder. “Thank you for telling me; I’m so proud of you, you’re so good for me.”

“Green,” Bucky grits out. “But—fuck.”

Clint huffs out a small laugh. “Yeah,” he agrees. He kisses Steve’s shoulder again. “Just let us know when you’re ready.”

It doesn’t take Steve nearly as long as Clint expects; just as he starts to get restless, Steve says, “Okay, green, you can move.”

Bucky doesn’t move with Steve’s permission, and it only takes Clint half a second to realize Bucky’s waiting for his permission. “With me,” Clint says, and he counts down from three for Bucky, helps him set a rhythm.

The slide of their cocks, not only in and out of Steve but against each other, is going to be too much for Clint so much faster than normal. Steve closes his hands over where Clint’s are closed around his hips, and Clint looses his grip long enough to tangle Steve’s fingers with his. “Shit, I’m gonna—” he bites out.

“Me too,” Bucky agrees. “Just—tell me when I can,” he adds, and Clint groans.

“Fuck, now,” he says, and then he’s coming.

He leans his head against Steve’s shoulder and breathes through it; Bucky’s cock slides against his oversensitive one for a few more thrusts before he’s coming too. It’s a weird feeling, the slick, wet heat around Clint’s cock as Bucky’s own dick softens—not back to baseline but at least to half-hard—and Clint shivers.

He pulls free of Steve’s ass, hissing at the sensation, and falls back on his heels. “Shit,” he breathes. “You good, Steve?”

“Can I get him off?” Bucky asks.

“Do you want to come, Steve?” Clint asks.

Steve doesn’t say anything—can he even speak words at this point?—but nods. He just keeps nodding until Clint says, “Okay, yeah, Buck, help him come. Steve, you come whenever you want,” and then Clint crawls off the bed to move on shaking legs into the bathroom.

When he returns, Steve’s slumped over Bucky, cradled in his arms, head tucked under his neck. It’s the most beautiful thing Clint’s ever seen, the two of them, debauched, fucked-out and pliant in each other’s arms, and Clint’s heart twists in an uncomfortable, too-good way. “Fuck, I love you,” Clint tells them, and he marvels in the fact that this is his life; he can tell them he loves them whenever he wants.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, just signs _I love you _back at Clint over Steve’s shoulder. Steve mumbles something, and Clint chooses to believe it’s flattering.

Clint cleans them off as best as he can without breaking apart their cuddle, and then he slides into bed next to Bucky and curls into Bucky’s side. He wraps an arm around Steve and breathes them in, sex and sweat and familiarity.

“Good?” he asks, when all of their breathing has returned to baseline and they’re more or less limp in each other’s arms.

“So good,” Bucky agrees.

Steve gives a weak thumbs up, apparently still not up to talking.

Clint laughs. He’s so delighted he feels like he might explode with it. “Good,” he agrees. “Fuck, when can we do that again?”

Steve lifts his head. “Gimme an hour,” he mumbles.

“I’m game,” Bucky says.

Clint raises his eyebrows. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he points out.

“And you’ll die happy,” Bucky tells him. “Are you saying you don’t want to go again?”

Clint considers that. “Nap, then yes,” he sighs. He pretends to ignore the way Bucky does a fist pump and Steve hums happily. He just snuggles in closer to Bucky’s side and says, “Sleep now, sex later.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Bucky agrees easily. “You’re the boss.”

Clint falls asleep with a grin on his face.


End file.
